


Uthlath

by speedgriffon



Series: Giveaway Fics [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Birthday, F/M, Fluff, Giveaway fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 13:18:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4626693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speedgriffon/pseuds/speedgriffon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While celebrating her nameday, Cullen has a special gift for the Inquisitor. (A giveaway fic.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uthlath

All morning Idril had been stuck in her personal quarters. The moment the sun had peeked over the horizon servants had brought her breakfast in bed before Josephine arrived. With the ambassador came more servants, each carrying boxes and trunks of gifts. For a moment, she was confused until Josephine explained the Inquisition had learned of her name day.  _It was today_.

If Idril had it her way, she would be spending today just like any other—outside in the stable with her hart. Instead, Idril sat with Josephine opening gifts at her desk while her advisor took down names on her clipboard. Every person would have to be sent a thank-you note, each one with a signature from Idril Lavellan herself. They continued until high noon, the mid-day meal being served in her quarters as well. She wondered if she would ever be allowed to leave to  _celebrate_  on her own. Wasn’t that what a name day was all about anyways?

“How much more is there?” She asked, lifting up a random box and giving it a light shake. Whatever was inside rattled about, and she perked up a curious eyebrow to Josephine.

“Plenty. Gifts are pouring in from all stretches of Thedas.” The ambassador explained. “Wherever the Inquisition has made its stake, your name is known, and they wish to celebrate this day with you.”

“I will never understand the fascination humans have with name-days.” Idril responded, placing the rattling box down for another one wrapped in delicate parchment. It was from Orlais and was light enough to make her think there was  _nothing_  within. “In my clan we celebrate when you come of age but nothing beyond that.”

“Yes, well…” Josephine smiled as she wrote down another name on her list. “You are now Lady Lavellan. I’m sure there will be more gifts than this for other occasions.”

“Such as?” Idril was a little shocked. Already her quarters were filled with hundreds of gifts, many still unopened. She couldn’t imagine having more gifts bestowed on her in this manner—where would it all go? She didn’t have any use for half of what had been given to her, never one to dwell on material possessions.

“Oh well there’s First Day, Wintersend, Summerday… _Santinalia_.” Josephine was sure to continue if Idril didn’t raise her hand to pause her. “Not to mention the amount of gifts you’ll be receiving when suitors catch wind of your single status.”

Idril widened her eyes, trying to ignore the way her heart fluttered. “But I’m not—” She paused, swallowing her irritation. “Does Cullen not matter?”

“I understand.” Josephine nodded, recognizing Idril’s relationship with her Commander. She had always fancied him since Haven, but as soon as they arrived in Skyhold their flirtations transformed into something more intimate. Their relationship had blossomed since then into something she could have only wished for, and over the past several months she had grown to love him. “But these suitors do not see him as…worthy?” She offered a sympathetic smile.

“Excuse me?” Idril perked up a brow. She wasn’t mad at her advisor, no, she was mad at the _grand game_. “I’m  _Dalish_ …why would I have suitors?” She began to explain. Josephine sighed.

“The Game.” She clarified, answering Lavellan’s suspicions. Of course. “They do not wish to marry you for looks, or for your name, but for your title.  _Inquisitor_ , it weighs a heavy price in the scheme of things.”

“You know I can  _never_  do that, right Josephine?” Idril hated that she had to ask, hoping that her ambassador was simply explaining things and not getting any clever ideas. She could never marry somebody she didn’t love—not even if it benefited the Inquisition.

The ambassador was unable to reply when the stairs creaked, the two women snapping their heads to see Cullen rounding the banister, now standing awkwardly on the landing. He held a small package in one hand, the other pressed firmly to the back of his neck as he looked at them with a sheepish smile. Idril wondered if he had heard any of their conversation.

“I hope I’m not uh—interrupting anything?” He asked, eyes glancing between the two women. Josephine gave Idril a knowing glance before bowing slightly out of ingrained politeness.

“I’ll leave you two alone for now.” She smiled, nodding to Cullen before departing down the stairs. It wasn’t until the echoing sound of her bedroom door shutting hit her ears that Cullen turned back to her, his steps hesitant as he drew closer.

“Good afternoon.” He smiled, and Idril copied his grin, tilting her head back to gaze up at him as he met her. She had to laugh—of course the man she had to fall in love with would be much taller than her. “I uhm…brought you something.”

Idril glanced down between them to see the small gift wrapped in parchment and twine. The shape made her think it was a book, but she stopped herself from guessing aloud. Perhaps she had become an expert at it after spending hours opening presents.

“You didn’t have to.” She spoke sweetly, taking the gift from him. Cullen shook his head once.

“I wanted to.” He contended. “I wouldn’t be a very good…lover…if I didn’t get you a gift on your name day.”

Idril didn’t dwell on the way he had paused over the particular word. Instead, she focused on unwrapping his gift, smiling as a small leather bound book came into view. She had been right, but she still gazed over the item, her thumb brushing over the text written on the front. It was in Elvish, and she wondered where he had found it.

“It’s a book of poetry, or so I’m told…” He let out a nervous chuckle. “Though, I’m sure you can read that for yourself.”

“How’d you find this?” She asked next, shifting so that she was closer to him, smiling as he raised a hand to rest along her back. In this half-embrace she felt content. Cullen seemed to still hold an expression of embarrassment as he hesitated.

“I’ve been—” He gulped, eyes finally meeting hers once more. “Practicing. Elvhen…speaking it, I mean.” He cleared his throat after a moment and Idril watched him carefully. She wasn’t sure what to expect.

“Ma vhenan.” He started, and Idril felt her heart begin to race. Of  _course_  that would be the first phrase he taught himself. Cullen’s expression twisted in thought, as if he was struggling to remember what he had learned. “Ma sa’lath.”

“Ma vhenan’ara.” He continued, a blush settling on his cheeks. Idril could only smile softly at his shaky accent, her arms reaching to hold him as he spoke her native tongue. Already she felt her heart soaring at the gesture and at his heartfelt words.

“Ar nuvenin…ne.” He spoke slowly, and Idril felt the intensity of his words settle over her. _I want you_. “Ar nuvenin ne’uth.”  _Forever_.

Idril widened her eyes, breath leaving her as he spoke. She wondered if he understood the meaning behind his words.

“Creators, Cullen!” She pressed her hands to her cheeks, stepping away from his embrace for a moment. “Are you  _sure_  you’ve been practicing?”

“Why do you ask?” He responded and she felt nervous as his expression faltered from confident to unsure. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No—” She stopped herself short. “Not unless you meant to… _propose_.”

She stopped again when Cullen’s face turned a hot shade of red. Her breath left her as he pushed his lips to the side in a shaky smirk, a trembling hand meeting the back of his neck.

“Cullen?” She prompted when he remained silent.

“Sorry.” He responded, sheepishly. “I forgot the word.”

“ _Uthlath_.” Idril interrupted and felt her body warm over as her heartbeat slowed. “Forever love.” She continued, stepping back to where he was. Cullen’s eyes were searching her face, his eyebrows arched in surprise. “Cullen…ma’arlath… _are_ you asking?” She felt tears well in her eyes as she reached up to frame his face with her small hands. Cullen breathed out as he copied her, his thumbs tracing over the vallaslin across her cheeks.

“I wasn’t sure when I overheard you and Josephine.” He answered, and Idril let out a short gasp, worry temporarily replacing her joy. “But I can see I was being foolish.” Cullen let out a short laugh as she pressed up on her toes to leave a short kiss to his lips. “I’m asking, Idril. If you’ll marry me—not until the war is over but I couldn’t wait any longer to—”

“Cullen.” She interrupted, knowing he could go on and on if allowed to. He gazed at her and she kissed him once more, this time with more conviction. “ _Yes_.”

They embraced, holding onto one another as they kissed. Idril could only grin. Perhaps celebrating on her name day wasn’t so bad after all.


End file.
